"And get some wine!" cried Himilco, tossing his cap in the air.
"And some new clothes!" chimed in Hannibal; "beggars in rags are our soldiers now."
In the midst of the general hilarity Jonah sat silent and full of thought.
"What ails you, trumpeter?" I asked; "cannot you quite make up your mind to go back?"
"It is no good my going back," he half blubbered out; "they will never believe me; they will only laugh when I tell them I have been to Nergal's kitchen and seen behemoths by dozens; and if I were to say I have been worshipped for a god, and had dinners brought me every day, big enough for a month, they will declare I'm stark mad."
"Never mind, old fellow," said Chamai; "we'll back you up; we will testify to the truth of your stories; and what's more, you shall be presented to the King, and he shall hear you blow your trumpet."
Overcome by Chamai's good-natured encouragement, and his own prospective honours, he fairly burst into tears.
"Do you really mean it? and will the King see Gebal too?"
"Aye, that he will; and we must teach old Gebal to act the courtier, and to make a bow."